Sister, Sister
by percychased
Summary: Daphne is there to give Astoria moral support on her wedding day. Future Draco/Astoria.


There were women of all ages bustling throughout the room, all in a rush so that the wedding could be as perfect as possible. Demands were shouted, hair was done, flowers and place settings were adjusted. The atmosphere was tense and rushed, and Astoria couldn't wait for this whole affair to be done and over with.

A wonderful mood for her first (and most likely only) wedding day.

Rough lace dug into the raw skin of her ribs as her mother pulled the strings expertly, and as they were tightened she found it to be a struggle to breathe.

"Mother, please, it's tight enough," she snapped, batting her mother's hand away.

Mrs. Greengrass frowned and shook her head. "You still _won't_ be able to fit into those wedding robes of yours, Astoria. Listen to me and quit your complaining."

A woman who always had to have the final word, Mrs Greengrass was a tall woman with heavy-lidded eyes, thin lips, and high cheekbones. She had a very unique, elegant structure, and only ever flounced places instead of walked. Astoria had found that she had inherited most of her appearance from her mother - apart from her mother's blonde hair, she was the spitting image.

When Astoria thought her abdomen could cave no more, Mrs. Greengrass backed away and surveyed the damage with her hands on her hips.

"That'll have to do, I suppose," she said. Her hands clamped down on Astoria's shoulders and spun her towards a gold-gilded mirror. Her waist seemed to be inhuman, pulled into a unnatural span by the torturous scrap of lace and ribbon.

Her mother frowned for another moment before escaping the room, presumably to go find her father, lost deep in the cave of his study.

Daphne, regal with an updo highlighted with ruby pins and long, scarlet robes, approached her younger sister.

"That looks uncomfortable," she stated, somewhat obviously.

"Glad you noticed," Astoria huffed. "All this for nothing. I don't love him, Malfoy, not at all. He's _rotten,_ Daphne."

See, her sister was much too cunning and brave to be caught in a situation like Astoria. (She was a Gryffindor-Slytherin hatstall, but much to the family's relief, she had been placed in the house of her ancestors). When she had found out she had been the potential suitor of the Malfoy heir, she'd strategically placed herself in the middle of hushed rumours about a secret relationship with a half-blood boy, not too scandalous to get burnt off the tree, of course, but only enough so that their mother would be furious enough to make Astoria be the one in the corset and wedding robe.

Daphne ignored what she said and helped her younger sister into her robes. They were soft and silky, and truth be told they felt wonderful on her skin, like the feeling of an afternoon nap or a sunny day. She buttoned up the front, slowly and carefully, making sure she didn't miss anything as Astoria blinked down. Her sister was smaller than her, more precise in her movements and decisions and with a bigger capability to be who she truly was; a trait rarely found in the esteemed pureblood Greengrass family.

It was when she was placing another layer of fabric over Astoria's shoulders that she spoke. "He's not as bad as Goyle. That's who you were promised to before, remember? That idiotic troll. Malfoy may be full of himself, but at least he's got a bit of a head on his shoulders. And Malfoy Sr.'s been in Azkaban for a while now, so at least that ponce won't be around."

Daphne stepped back, and just like her mother, put her hands on her hips and surveyed her work. Astoria remained quiet, absorbing her sister's words. Her heart was beating fast and heavily inside her chest, and her breaths came in short, tiny puffs. Daphne laid her long, elegant fingers on her shoulders, and stared her directly in the eyes.

"You can do this," she said, slowly as if speaking to a spooked animal. Her voice was husky, like it always sounded when she spoke quietly. "You can do this. I believe in you, and I'm here for you. Always."

Her hand reached down and grabbed Astoria's, and with the pad of her thumb she rubbed her hand, something they used to do as children when one of them was upset. Astoria had to remind herself not to cry - the busyness of the sprawling Greengrass manor as it prepared for a wedding seemed like nothing but background noise to her now.

Her eyes, sore and tired, met Daphne's, a swirling, vibrant pit of bright blue. "You don't love him now, but you may in the future. I think - I do think you two will eventually be happy together. I wouldn't have done... what I did without thinking of you first, Astoria. I truly do not enjoy saying this, but neither of our families have given the other the benefit of the doubt. We do not know what he is like at home, only the face he puts on to the public," said Daphne. The words seemed to drain her, and she stepped back. Astoria had to strain to hear her when she spoke next. "Your life has not ended. It's barely started."

For being only two years older than Astoria, and only twenty-two at that, she sounded older and wiser beyond her years.

Astoria and Draco hadn't ever really spoken at all, except when forced to; it wasn't as though there was a hatred between them, but they weren't in the same year and they didn't share any of the same interests, so there was hardly anything to make conversation about during Hogwarts. Since their engagement, they had several brief, civil conversations that honestly meant nothing. You couldn't find out much about a person from a discussion about the weather.

Astoria exhaled heavily and met her sister's eyes.

"I hope you're right."

Daphne curled her hand around her sisters. They could feel each other's pulses, a true reminder that they were sisters, there for each other forever and always.

"When it comes to you, I'm always right."

* * *

QL, Round 2, Captain for Puddlemere United.


End file.
